CHAPTER 95
For weeks she had tried to silence it, the whisper that once guided her, the unseen presence that had chosen her to wear Quicke's crown. It had not spoken since Robert's death. A part of her believed she had severed that link forever when she slit his throat. But now, sitting in the hush of the chamber, she felt it return.
At first it was faint, like wind rattling dry leaves in the dark. Then it settled into words.
"You cannot stop what was set in motion."
Her fingers tightened against the wood. She swallowed, refusing to answer.
"You turned away from war, and they call you weak. You denied their thirst for blood, and now they deny you their faith. Power rots when not used. It is slipping from you."
Grace clenched her jaw. "I gave them peace. I did what was right."
